


BORED-ing School

by tajn



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: High School AU, Jock!Ian, M/M, Math, Nerdy!Mickey, Private School, Soccer, Ukrainian!Mickey, mentions of bullying (of Mickey), scholarships, southside
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3966667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tajn/pseuds/tajn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is a sport scholarship student in a Northside private school and life has been getting a bit boring. But with a new scholarship student, are things about to change?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That's Not my Name

When Ian was accepted for a sports scholarship at a private school in Northside, he thought his life was going to get a hell of a lot more exciting. But that was far from reality. The school, as the dean would say, was very structured. A fancy way of saying that there were a hell of a lot of rules that teachers were not afraid to reinforce, especially to the new scholarship students.

The scholarship program that Ian had been accepted to was one created by the city government of Chicago in order to give kids from the Southside a chance to get out of poverty, and get a better education based on their gifts, also elections were coming up. But even with the help from the government. The kids from Southside were having trouble in the northside school, which was due to the strict rules as well as the others students distain for ‘the lower class infecting their school’. This lead there to be a 3 month turnover rate for the Southside scholarship students.

When Ian first got to the school, he thought that he was going to be a part of that number. Teachers were always looking down on him, treating him like he couldn’t even tie his shoes, and students wouldn’t talk to him or would be an outright dick to him. It wasn’t until he scored his first hat trick in soccer did people start changing their tune. But still, Ian felt out of place and always had a foot out the door, knowing that he could be caught smoking behind the sports equipment room or that the money from the government was going to run out and he would be shipped back to Southside. 

But here Ian was, six months later, wearing the obnoxious school uniform and sitting in the stuffy English classroom flipping through Macbeth with a bitch of a teacher. The only perk about the uniform regulations was that students with letterman jackets were allowed to wear them instead of the uncomfortable jackets because the school believed that the jackets showed ‘school spirit’. 

“Students, Please put your books down for a moment. I wish to introduce you to our new scholarship student.” Mrs. Cawdor said clearing her throat and pulling Ian away from the first scene of Macbeth. “My name is Mrs. Cawdor and I will be your English teacher for this semester. Go ahead and introduce yourself.” 

“I’m Mickey.” Ian glanced up to see the owner of the gruff voice and was surprised that the voice doesn’t really match the body. Mickey’s hair is combed back neatly, he wore a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and his uniform still has the creases from when it was packaged. To be frank, Ian thinks that the kid looks a bit like one of those classic nerds on TV. 

“I don’t know how it was like at your old school, but at this academy we do not use shorthand or pet names. We respect the name our parents have given us. Do you understand, Michael?” 

“…Yeah.” Mickey said scratching his nose and Ian couldn’t help but notice how every finger has a band-aid on it. And when Ian looks at Mickey’s other hand, it is dressed in a similar fashion. 

“Perfect.” Mrs. Cawdor said clapping her hands together. “Would you like to say anything else about yourself, Michael?” 

“Not really.” 

“Shyness is perfectly alright, Michael. But please do not let that hinder you in class. Participation plays a big role in my grading schematics.” Mrs. Cawdor said handing Mickey a stack of papers. “At the very least, please tell us what field you got your scholarship in? Shop? Or maybe Sports, like our other scholarship student, Ian Gallagher.” Mrs. Cawdor said directing the attention of the classroom to Ian. Ian really doubts that Mickey is in sports or shop but Mrs. Cawdor doesn’t really care about anything except for English so it doesn’t surprise Ian that she has no idea about the other classes.

“Math.” That definitely fit his ‘nerd’ look Ian thinks.

“Math! How interesting. Did your previous school have a good mathematics program?” Mrs. Cawdor didn’t wait for an answer. “Unlikely. You must have been self-taught. What amazing stories you must have Michael! I am looking forward to seeing them in your future assignments.” 

“Mrs. Cawdor?” Mickey said looking up for the first time since entering the room and Ian couldn’t help but stare at Mickey’s clear blue eyes. 

“Yes, Michael do you have a question.” Mrs. Cawdor said smiling. 

“No. Just a comment.” Mickey paused a moment in thought. “I really would feel more comfortable with you calling me Mickey.” 

Mrs. Cawdor’s face fell. “As I have stated previously. I will not use personal or unprofessional names in this classroom. And frankly, it would be unfair for you to get special treatment and be called anything other than your given name. Isn’t that right, Alexander?” 

“I believe so,” Alex said from behind Ian. 

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me for being impudent, Mrs. Cawdor. But isn’t it also unprofessional to call a student by an incorrect name?” 

“Are you trying to suggest that your legal name is Mickey?” Mrs. Cawdor said, which earned a couple of laughs from the kiss-asses in the room. 

“No. But I also did not say or imply that my name is Michael.” Mickey said staring directly at Mrs. Cawdor now.

Mrs. Cawdor turned towards the modern computer on her desk. “We can clear this up right now,” She said clacking at the keyboard. Ian watched an embarrassed tinge spread across Mrs. Cawdor’s face. “It seems as if I did make an assumption, My-” Mrs. Cawdor stumbles over the name. After a few feeble attempts, she looks at Mickey for clarification. 

“Mykhailo.” Mickey said. 

“Mick-halo?” the redness on Mrs. Cawdor’s face increased. 

“Mykhailo.” Mickey said slower and louder. 

“Mykhailo.” Mrs. Cawdor says the name painfully slow. She looks at Mickey, who nods at the correct pronunciation. “Where is the name from?” 

“It’s Ukrainian and I know my name is a bit of a mouthful.” Mickey said. And Ian swears that Ian can see a small smirk on Mickey’s face. “That’s why I prefer the Americanized ‘Mickey’. It’s simple and less embarrassing for the other party if they have a problem with the pronunciation.” 

“…I feel as if we can make a small exception to the rule for simplicity’s sake.” Mrs. Cawdor said. “ For the students, who may have an issue pronouncing your name. Now please take a seat in the empty desk next to Ian… Mickey.” 

“Okay.” Mickey said walking down between the desks. Ian watched as Mac, the right midfielder of the soccer team, shove his leg out to trip Mickey. But Mickey just takes a high step over his leg. And the only reaction he has to the pathetic attempt of bullying is rolling his eyes, but even then the act is instantaneous and low key.

“This is going to fucking suck.” Mickey hissed to himself as he settled into the desk next to Ian. “Filled to the goddamn brim with assholes and bitch-ass teachers. Fuck.” 

Ian glanced over and sure enough it is Mickey who is spewing the vulgarities, apparently he hasn’t been told about the ‘no swearing’ rule or just doesn’t care. Mickey catches Ian staring and just stares back until Ian looks away. Mickey huffs out a small laugh and pulls out his own copy of Macbeth. 

And Ian smiles. Maybe school was about to get a bit less boring.


	2. Shall I compare thee?

Mickey was a constant source of puzzlement for Ian.

The guy was smart for one thing. Ian had heard how on Mickey’s first day of classes he had written and aced the math exam, that the teacher had given him with no prior warning of the content. But Mickey also wasn’t a show off. Not once had Ian see Mickey raise his hand in class but whenever he was asked a question he would always have a concise reply that left him invisible, which lead to Ian thinking that Mickey’s first day attitude was a coincidence. Except for the fact that Mickey always seemed like he was going to explode. Like, he had all this pent up energy that he was forcing down.

“Ian, how do you feel about the description used in the poem?” Mrs. Cawdor said quickly snapping Ian from his thoughts. 

“Um.” Ian said quickly scanning through the lines of the poem and the notes he had written on it from the previous night, with a little help from his roommate. “ The line, ‘Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines./ And often is his gold complexion dimmed.’, is pretty interesting. Like comparing his lover to being brighter than the sun really makes you think about how highly Shakespeare felt for this person.“

Ian hears a snort of laughter next to him. “Of course the ginger would talk about the fucking sun.” Mickey said and Ian wants to scowl and tell Mickey how he had actually worked hard on that analysis. But then Mickey would know that Ian could hear him and then would likely stop with the quippy remarks that he said on occassion. 

“That is excellent Ian and I must agree. Shakespeare makes her sound beautiful especially with the line, ‘but thy eternal summer shall not fade’ really reinforces the thought that Shakespeare believes that his lover’s beauty will not diminish and how it links back to the beginning of the sonnet really allows the poem to feel complete.” 

“Now … Mickey,” Mrs. Cawdor said and Ian grins. Whenever Mrs. Cawdor says Mickey’s name it’s like pulling teeth for her. And the subsequent smirk from Mickey makes it even better. “What were your thoughts on Sonnet 18?” 

“Structurally the poem was solid and followed the sonnet form well.” Mickey said, not even looking up from his mathematic scribblings. 

“But what about the content about the lover’s appearance? And how Shakespeare makes her sound within the structure? At the very least tell me something that you found interesting.” Mrs. Cawdor said. 

And finally Mickey looks up and Ian sees the glint in Mickey’s eye, the same from the first day when Mickey had corrected Mrs. Cawdor on his name. And Ian sat back into his chair and prepared for whatever Mickey had to offer. 

“Well, your assumption that Shakespeare’s lover is a woman is interesting.” Mickey said raising an eyebrow and the whole room went deathly silent. “Throughout the entire poem, there is no indication that the ‘lover’ is a woman. There are no pronouns or descriptions that would pertain to the female physique. So there is an equal chance that Shakespeare is speaking about a man.” 

“But what about the description of the ambiguous lover,” Mrs. Cawdor asked after taking a moment to compose herself. 

“That is coming from assumption that Shakespeare is talking about his lover.” Mickey said now staring at Mrs. Cawdor. “One interpretation of the sonnet, is that Shakespeare is talking about both someone of beauty as well as how this sonnet will keep their beauty alive even when they are dead.” 

“Can you prove that interpretation?”

“Would I say anything if I couldn’t?” Mickey said pushing his glasses up. “This is just a single example, but in the last line of the sonnet. ‘So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.’ The ‘this’ mentioned in the line could be a self-reference to the poem. As in as long as people read this poem then your beauty will be remembered. This makes Shakespeare seem pretentious in his assumption that people will keep reading the sonnet. But the assumption was pretty accurate seeing that high school students are continuously forced to read and analyze this poem year after year.” 

“It is a classic sonnet, Mickey.” Mrs. Cawdor said ending the conversation and moving on to ask the class about the rhyming scheme of the sonnet. 

When Ian looked over to see what Mickey was doing, he wasn’t surprised that Mickey had returned to his math scribbles. 

~_~

When Ian was leaving from the last class of the day, why the hell did he take biology again, he sees in the distance three letterman jackets hovering around Mickey. “Shit,” Ian mumbles remembering his first couple weeks at the school and the number of bruises it brought. 

“You really trying to push that gay agenda, huh?” one of the letterman’s say, Ian thinks his name is Troy but he isn’t that familiar with the football crowd, as Troy punches Mickey in the stomach and Mickey takes the punch without so much as a blink. 

“You think your tough, huh Mykhailo?” Alex said slamming his fist into Mickey’s ribs and forcing Mickey to breathe out in pain and double over. “trying to push your gay shit in class and acting like a smart ass.”

“I think,” Mickey said looking up from behind his glasses. “That you are overcompensating, Alexander.” Mickey spits Alex’s name out. And fuck if Ian thought that Mickey’s sass was a one-time occurrence. 

The trio all looked at each other and stared back at Mickey. Mickey had just enough time to clench his jaw and brace himself before the beatings started and before the first punch landed Ian was running down the hall.

By the time Ian had made it close enough to intervene, Mickey was already on the floor covering his face with one arm and his exposed side with the other but surprisingly Mickey didn’t make a sound.

“Yo, Gallagher!” Alex called and stopped kicking Mickey to turn and face Ian. “You’re on the soccer team. You must have a good kick. Get in on the action against this Southside scum.” 

“Seeing that I’m Southside scum.” Ian said. “I don’t think so.” 

“At least you can win us some trophies. This punk-ass can’t do shit except take a fucking beating and spin some numbers.” Troy said and he and his friend also stopped the kicking.

“I can also tell you that I passed by Coach Jenkins and he should be coming around the corner in like 2 minutes.” 

“Fuck.” Alex said removing his foot from on top of Mickey. “Thanks for the heads up, see you later Angel face.” Alex nudged Mickey with his foot, “And if you blab, we stab.” And the trio quickly made their way down the hall hardly giving up a look behind them. 

“Angel face?” Ian said with a grin. 

“They think it’s emasculating,” Mickey said pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Not that I’m surprised. They are stupid enough to fall for ‘the teacher is right around the corner’ shtick so how the fuck would they be able to come up with a scalding nickname.” 

“You alright?” Ian asked. 

“Yeah. The only smart thing they did is miss the face.” Mickey said rubbing at his ribs. “Which is good for me too. People won’t ask questions and these glasses cost an ass ton so I’m pretty fucking glad that they didn’t get broken over an interpretation of sonnet fucking 18.” Mickey’s tone and language is so much more relaxed than when he was in class and for whatever reason that makes Ian happy. Maybe it’s because Mickey just got his ass beaten or the fact that they are both from Southside, but Ian hopes that it’s because Mickey just feels relaxed around him. 

About that,” Ian said grabbing Mickey’s wrist and pulling him up off the floor. “I thought that you were a math nerd not an English prick.

“My sister stuffs Shakespeare down my throat. And seeing that me and her are the only ones in my family that have enough brain cells to comprehend that kind of shit, I’m stuck listening to it.” Mickey said running his hand through his askew hair. “And I’m not a nerd,” Mickey said grabbing his books off the ground. “Nerds can’t take a punch. I took 6 of em and a dozen kicks, although they were weak as shit.’” 

“Anyone who can recite more than 100 digits of pi is a math nerd in my books.” 

“You heard about that?” Mickey said scratching his cheek. Ian zoned in on the bandages that still covered every digit on Mickey’s hand. But before he can ask about it Mickey is walking off. “Thanks for the help. See ya later, Gallagher.” 

“Later Angel face.” Ian called and Mickey flips him off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the chapter is a bit english lit heavy :/ but, surprisingly, it is important for the future of the fic! 
> 
> Bonus marks to whoever gets what Mrs. Cawdor references and how the bullies get Mickey's nickname 'Angel-face'


	3. Seeing Smoke

If anything good came out of the scholarship program, it was soccer. The new equipment was nice, Ian didn’t even have to pay for it which made it really nice, and the soccer field didn’t have any needles or bodies on it, (Okay. So there was only a body once when Ian was eight, but that shit is fucking traumatizing), but the best thing about the academy soccer team was the players.

And it wasn’t because they were good looking either. But it was because they wanted to play the game and they were good. Ian remembered, just last year, that all the players on his soccer team were either high all the time or complete shit at the game. He had literally carried the team to all three wins they had gotten. 

And honestly, it was a surprise that the academy had accepted him. But with a history of ROTC and the support from his family, where his older brother tutored him and his younger brother had broken the kneecap of the kid ahead of him, Ian had gotten in. 

Of course, there were a lot of shitty things about private school. Like how he had to live on campus in the dorms or how all the teachers and students acted like they were better than Ian.

But if Ian had to say the worst thing about the acadamy, it was the no fucking smoking rule. It had taken him weeks and a couple of tips from some of the older members of the team, but he has finally found a place to smoke. Sure it was a cramp garbage-filled space between the equipment building and wall that divided the school from the outside world, but it was a quiet to smoke, and sometime give recs to other students to buy weed from his brother, and it kind of reminded Ian of the alley behind The Alibi. 

But it seemed as if Southside luck was catching up with him with the sound of someone stepping on the gravel path getting closer. And in a half assed attempt in hiding his hardly lit cigarette, Ian lowered his hand to his side and prayed that the person was just passing by.

“Fuck,” Ian hissed hearing the crunch of gravel get progressively closer. But Ian was pleasantly surprised when he saw that the person had the familiar black framed blue eyes and dark combed back hair. “Hey,” Ian said visibly relaxing. 

Mickey glanced around the narrow alley and sighed. “Fuck me. I take it that the library isn’t over here?” Mickey ran his fingers through his hair and flattening it more into place. 

“Nope. It’s at the front of the school.” Ian said. 

“Shit,” Mickey said. “So is this a good place?’ 

“What?” 

“For smoking?” Mickey said raising an eyebrow. “Or do you expect me to believe that it’s your pants are on fire?” Mickey gestured for Ian to hand over the cigarette. 

Ian passed over the cigarette and tried to ignore the sharp flitter from his fingers to his chest when Mickey took the cigarette. “I haven’t been caught yet.” 

Mickey took a long inhalation and held it. “Christ” and the smoke eased its way from Mickey’s mouth. “I haven’t had one of these for way too fucking long.” Mickey said handing the cigarette back to Ian. “Mind if I use the spot.” 

“Would you not come here if I said no?” Ian said and Mickey grinned. Then the two smoked in silence until the cigarette ebbed into just a filter. “So why the fuck did you think the library was over here?” 

“Some self-important bitches told me it was over here.”

“And you listened?” 

“Fuck me, for assuming the best in people.” 

“Pretty cute of you, actually.” Ian said before realizing what was coming out of his mouth. Ian froze for a moment before quickly adding, “Sorry, pretty fucking gay of me,” 

“Nobody ever called me cute before,” Mickey smirked. 

“I think it’s the glasses.” Ian dropped the cigarette and grinded it into the gravel. 

“You got a thing for nerds, soccer star?” Mickey’s teeth grazed over his bottom lip. 

“I thought you said, you weren’t a nerd?” Ian said inching his way towards Mickey, who was just watching Ian carefully. 

But before Mickey could say or do anything more, the crunch of gravel returned and this time it was several times louder and more skittish. “YO GALLAGHER?” a familiar voice called. 

“Fuck,” Ian hissed it was his 3:30 appointment emerged around the corner. 

“We early or something?” Callum, a guy who looked like one of those fake-ass bad boys said, said looking between Mickey and Ian. “Cause I really want to buy some of the weed.” 

“ ‘The weed?’ really Gallagher?” Mickey said shaking his head and squeezing past the skittish looking guy. 

“He won’t tell on us, right?” Callum said leaning in close and eyes wide in fear.

“No.” Ian said flatly and adding another 15 bucks to the price because of Callum’s interruption and the kid’s shear dumbassery. “How much do you want?”

“How much is enough for a couple of joints?”

“Depends on how high you want to get.”

“How high should I get?” 

“Fuck.” Ian said feeling the frustration. “I’ll get you the amount my little brother smokes.” 

“It will be enough?”

“Should be.” Ian said pulling out his phone and started to punch in random numbers. Ian had learned that the prep kids like a bit of a show. “Now, it’s going to cost you about 40 bucks for the weed and an extra 10 for it to be rolled into joints.”

“It doesn’t come pre-rolled?” 

“No.” Ian said. “You got the money.” 

“Yeah. Here” Callum said handing over the money. “Wait do I tip you.” 

“Tip?” Ian said trying to hold back a laugh. “No you tip the distributer.” 

“I’m not getting my weed from you?” 

“You want to carry weed around you at school?” Ian said raising an eyebrow.

“Right” Callum said slowly. “So I pick it up behind the public library on 7th. That’s what James said?” 

“Be there at 10:30.” Ian said as his voice became dark. “And you know, don’t fucking tell anyone about this.” 

“I knew you Southside kids were good for something.” Callum said walking off and Ian silently flipped him off as he tapped on Lip’s contact information. 

“Hey Ian, What’s up?” Lip said. 

“Nothing just got you another customer.” Ian said. “He said he would pick it up Saturday at the usual place. 10:30. Expect a tip.”

“From the cops?” Lip asked incredulously. 

“Nah. The guy thinks it’s normal to tip a dealer. You can get at least 15 bucks off him.”

“Really? Shit I knew you going to private school was good for something.” Lip said with a sharp laugh. “Speaking of how is school.” 

“You know, kicking ass in soccer. Barely getting by in math”

“Found anyone to have sex with in the boys locker room with?” Lip quipped. 

“Fuck off, man.” Ian’s said not knowing how to feel about how his mind immediately went to Mickey. 

“You’re in private school, Ian.” Lip said. “This is what sexual fantasy’s are made of!” 

“Yeah, whatever. See you on Friday.” Ian said hanging up the phone and trying to get his mind off fucking Mickey in the showers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter that is a bit more Ian-centric!   
> Hope you guys enjoy. Also what are your thoughts on the amount of OCs? are they distracting or are they alright?

**Author's Note:**

> Also working on a tumblr page to organize Gallavich work using tags and creating a spot for centralizing prompts. If you're interested go to http://gallavichfanfiction.tumblr.com/


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